


Blink first

by bluebells



Series: Ceasefire [7]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, This is not how you play good cop bad cop, When plot attacks, interrogations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 04:17:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13310241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebells/pseuds/bluebells
Summary: With much reluctance, Lucio is forced to stonewall his allies. Overwatch try another approach.





	Blink first

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Minimalisticmars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minimalisticmars/gifts).



> Written for the prompt: "I just feel safe with you. Like nothing bad can happen." Directly follows the events of [_Forgot to send the invitations_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13066845).
> 
> So, back when I first started taking prompts, I rugby tackled people in the Doomcio discord server and made them choose a number between 1 and 75 so I could practice off the drabble list. Many humoured me, bewildered and patient. One of those was Mars.
> 
> This is the first of the drabbles making it explicit that I’ve been drawing a line between many of them into a loose series. Writing things out of sequence is a lot of fun. I recommend it.

It takes half an hour of stonewalling and, at last, Fareeha snarls in disgust and frustration. The former stings for the hot look of betrayal she throws at Lúcio before she storms from the room. Lúcio can understand. In their line of work, and the story he's heard of how Fareeha lost her mother. A traitor would be the highest of enemies on Commander Amari's list.

Lúcio is barely left alone five minutes before Hana Song barrels into the room in a huffy storm of solidarity.

"I don't believe her," Hana flips her hair, arms crossing tightly over her chest. She throws herself against Lúcio's side on the bench and the force of her glower boosts his spirits. Just how did she convince them to let her in?

Under the shared spotlight, Lúcio glances from his friend to the one-way reflective glass before them and wonders which of their leaders is conferring with Fareeha's suspicions.

Well, Overwatch leaders. He still hasn't decided if they're _his_ leaders yet.

"Which part?"

"Oh, I know you're having sex with the big guy with the fist." Hana flexes her right hand like she's donning a glove. She pouts at him dramatically and raises a conspiratorial eyebrow.

Having sex. The clinical disclosure makes Lúcio flinch on the inside and a thin laugh bubbles up, weak as any defence he could mount. He expected more slang from Hana, eight years his junior; something to soften three months of stolen nights and early mornings being exactly where he wasn't supposed to be.

"So-- you-- um...."

She isn't angry?

"I warned you, right?"

Lúcio sighs, glancing away.

Hana follows his gaze, scanning the narrow concrete walls of the not-interrogation room. "I didn't think you'd take it this far. Three months is longer than any of my relationships."

Lúcio snarls gently under his breath and tangles a hand in the loose fall of his dreadlocks, wishing he tied them back this morning. Is she trying to help him right now or not? "Could you--" He glances meaningfully at the reflective window.

Tell me what they're saying in there. Run some interference. Help me out here.

Hana elbows his shoulder to stop his flustered stammering. "Did you tell _him_ anything?"

Lúcio straightens from his slump, swiping a hand as if he could clear the mere suggestion from being breathed into existence. "No way."

"Are you sure?"

"Hana."

"Yeah."

"Girl."

" _You know_ \-- the second right before you're about to lose it, and he gets you to spill a few state secrets, too."

"'State'--" Lúcio squints at her. Is she really pulling _that_ analogy? What's in her head?

"Okay, _Overwatch_ secrets." Hana shrugs at his evident confusion, then throws her head back in a theatrical moan, back arched in parody of a blissed out orgasm. "'The password is password!' Like in the movies."

Lúcio blinks at her, bemused because they both know it's nothing like the movies -- and Hana, especially, a film star and decorated soldier knows it better than most. "Of _course_ not. We're not like... we never...." He stumbles because even though Hana pulls him towards mirth, her insinuation and its charges make his heart race.

He hasn't. He hasn't betrayed them.

He closes his eyes. Calm comes in a short, deep breath of chilled air, and he exhales.

"We don't talk about that kind of thing."

Hana's dark eyes glitter at him as she adjusts the pink headphones slung around her neck. "What _do_ you talk about?"

"Just...." He wrings his memory through the low hum of distress in his ears. His chest tightens thinking of Akande's hand on his thigh, gentle kisses atop a marble counter top and careful fingers behind his neck. Akande receiving him at the end of a mission in the long shadows a closed cafe, at the end of the summer games on his back in a hotel room. That one time Lucio snuck him onto base. "We mock each other a lot."

Truth be told, they hardly speak about anything of substance. It was the implicit agreement.

Hana nods slowly with a noise of interest, pout comically dubious as she searches his face, and it clicks. Lúcio's shoulders straighten and he pulls back, offended. He looks again at the gaming headset around her neck, keenly suspicious of its microphone.

"Are you _working_ me? For them?"

Nineteen years old, and already a servicewoman. Hana Song would go places.

“Aren't you one of us, too?” At his friend's shrewd look, he can understand now where she pulls the depth of her acting ability. She is unbothered by his revelation, shrugging with a shake of her head. "Like I said, I don't believe that you're a threat. No matter who you sleep with."

Lúcio eyes her warily, disbelieving. "Why?"

"You're Lúcio." The young soldier throws a hand at the mirrored glass, uncaring of their audience. "They don't get it. They're old. They haven't grown up with _this_." She makes a fist, drums it from his heart to hers, not a shade of the selfie sly gamer in her sharp gaze. "We're the future. And I know what you stand for -- we all do. And I just feel safe with you. Like nothing bad can happen." Lúcio's stomach sinks with guilt as Hana's hand drops to her side, dark eyes holding his intently. "As long as you stop this right now. Or you continue, and you report to 76."

Is she serious?

Lúcio stiffens and stares at his reflection in the glass. "They want me to be an informant?"

"You might know more than you think," Hana offers, leaning in to his shoulder in solidarity, voice quiet, almost kind. "But this can't keep going, Lúcio, come on. It's dangerous for all of us. And for all the people who look up to you. Think about it."

Lúcio bites his tongue. He's spent the last three months keeping their meetings in the latest, darkest corners of his schedule so he hasn't _had_ to.

But she isn't wrong.

"It's not what you think," he says, swallowing thickly.

"I don't know what it is, but I know what that long face means." Hana's lips brush his cheek, sweet and conciliatory. "Listen to Fareeha. Make up your mind. Then make the call."

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wonders why I [write so much for Doomcio](https://bellsybuilds.tumblr.com/tagged/doomcio), but rarely mention it on [my blog](https://bellsyblue.tumblr.com/), it's because all the discourse goes down on the [discord server](https://discord.gg/SaENPwp). If you feel like you're suffering in rarepair hell alone for these two, head along there and you'll find some friends. :)


End file.
